Cursed Moon (Prospero's War) (27 page)

My limbs were weighed down and useless. My head lolled to the side, and I was panting from fear and pain. Inside, the potion ricocheted around my insides like lightning.

Across from me, sweat coated Morales’s face and his cheeks were flushed. His biceps strained as he fought magic’s claws. His wide eyes met mine. The lack of hope I saw in those dark irises worried me. Normally he was the one to crack a joke to ease the tension. But now he looked like a man who’d run out of options.

I swallowed hard against the bile surging in my throat. Until I took my last breath, I’d never believe there were no more options.

“Now.” Dionysus stepped back and tapped a finger on his full lips. “Who wants to share first?”

Morales and I looked at each other across the space. I could feel my secrets crowding on the back of my tongue like tiny daggers. Morales looked as worried as I felt, so I assumed he was experiencing the same urges. That being the case, neither of us said a word, worried we’d spill our secrets without any further prompting.

“No one wants to volunteer?” Dionysus said. “Well, I guess we’ll have to just do this the old-fashioned way.”

From inside his toga, he held up my anniversary token necklace. A shock passed through me. I hadn’t noticed it was missing. “Arcane Anonymous, huh? Bet that means you have lots of juicy secrets, Detective Prospero.”

I didn’t rise to the bait. Instead I zeroed in on the necklace, which, in addition to the token still bore the tiny vial Baba had given me.

“Ohh, you look mad,” he said in a taunting tone. “Do you want it back?”

Until that moment, I hadn’t appreciated how precious both items were. And now they were in the hands of a man who’d likely kill me in the immediate future. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of having something to hold over me. “I couldn’t care less.”

He raised a single brow in challenge. Then, without a word, he tossed the necklace over the back of the boat.

I clenched my teeth and promised myself that no matter what this asshole threw at me, I would fight him with every last ounce of strength in my body. Unfortunately, with the truth potion surging through me like a high-speed train, my strength was quickly waning.

“Where was I?” Dionysus said, tapping his lips. “Oh yes, a coin flip. Shayla, my dear, would you do the honors?”

The priestess pulled a coin from the pocket of her skintight jeans. “Heads or tails?” she asked Morales.

“Fuck you.”

“Tails it is, then,” she said on a giggle. She tossed the coin into the air with a graceful flick of her wrist.

In what seemed like slow motion, it flipped end-over-end. In my head, I willed the coin to land on tails. It’s not that I wanted Morales to suffer, but he was the last guy I wanted to admit my secrets in front of. If we survived this, I was worried
he’d go straight to Gardner and it would be game over for my career.

Shayla snatched the quarter from the air and slapped it on the back of her right hand. She waited just long enough for the suspense to become agonizing. Her narrowed eyes ping-ponged back and forth between Morales and me. A bead of sweat rolled down Morales’s temple. His jaw was rock-hard and his eyes were focused on that fist like it was a time bomb.

Finally, Dionysus went to join her. She lifted her hand to allow him to peek.

“Oh my,” he whispered. Stealing glances at both of us, he chuckled. “We have a winner, kids.”

He moved toward me with deliberate slowness. When he stood directly in front of me, he leaned down into my face.

“Tell me, Kate, what’s your secret?” he whispered. He ran a finger down my cheek. “Won’t it be such a relief not to carry the burden alone?”

He was the snake in the garden and I suddenly felt as naked as Eve. “I can’t.” My eyes shot toward Morales. His expression was grave, and I saw sadness and pity in his eyes. Like he knew before this was all over he’d know things about me neither of us was ready for him to know. Like he knew this would change everything—if we survived.

Words gathered at the back of my tongue, like eager lemmings ready to dive off the cliff. I ground my teeth together to keep the truth inside.

“I can see you fighting it,” he said. “Means the secrets are extra juicy.”

The longer I resisted, the more excruciating the effort. My heart struggled to keep up with the rising blood pressure. My temples pounded, my stomach churned, my tongue swelled. I squeezed my eyes and focused on trying to ride out the pain.

“Oh yes, I can see this will be a good one. What is it, Kate? Did you fuck someone you shouldn’t have? Or no—you’re a cop. Cops have the best secrets. Some kind of crime you covered up, maybe? A secret addiction?”

I tried to keep my eyes shut, I really did. But the instant he mentioned a cover-up and addiction, my eyes popped open.

“Ah ha!” he said, laughing. “Hit a nerve there, did I, love?” He caressed my cheek. His palm was hot and sweaty and made revulsion creep across my skin.

“I’m not hiding anything,” I gritted from between clenched teeth. Pain was a boot heel to my gut. Doubling over, I struggled not to vomit.

His face pressed close to mine, those blazing eyes like twin flames in my pain-dimmed vision. “Your secrets will kill you,” he whispered. “Literally.”

I looked up quickly, hoping he was the one lying now. He pulled back a little, but smiled. “Didn’t I mention that part?” He shrugged. “The more you resist telling the truth, the more the potion will attack your vital organs. Tell one too many lies and—” He slashed a hand across his throat.

I glanced at Morales. His normally olive complexion was now bone-white except for the blood streaking down his cheek.

“All right,” I said, panting. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

Dionysus’s eyes widened like a kid given free rein at an ice cream shop. He leaned forward so he wouldn’t miss one sweet drop.

I licked my dry lips and swallowed before speaking. My breaths were coming in short bursts as I fought the pain and adrenaline. “I haven’t had sex in eighteen months.”

“Ha!” Shayla laughed. “That’s a shocker.”

Almost immediately the pain in my stomach eased. I let out a relieved breath. But before I could get too used to the less
shitty sensation, Dionysus’s palm cracked across my cheek. My head snapped back.

“Don’t fucking patronize me, bitch!”

“I tore the label off my mattress,” Morales called. “And when I was a kid I stole a piece of gum from a gas station.”

Dionysus rounded on my partner but not before I caught a glimpse at the pure rage on the psycho’s face. He marched over to Morales and placed the gun’s muzzle between his eyes.

Fear crawled up my throat on spidery legs.

Morales’s face morphed into an expression of bored contempt. A look that proved this wasn’t the first time someone had pointed a gun at my partner. A look that dared the asshole to back down just like all the others had done.

“Don’t tell him, Kate.” He kept his eyes on Dionysus.

Instead of responding, the man with the gun lowered the barrel. The gun exploded. Shayla screamed. Morales groaned in pain. I reared up and was hit upside the head with vertigo. Through blurry vision I tried to assess the damage to Morales.

His body was slumped over, but he was moving. “Drew!” I shouted, blinking rapidly.

“I’m okay,” he growled.

Dionysus moved toward Morales. A split second later my partner hissed. My vision cleared enough to see Dionysus pressing a thumb into a bullet wound on Morales’s left leg. “Next time I will shoot him someplace vital.” He turned wild eyes toward me. “Tell me, Detective.” He pressed harder, and Morales clenched his teeth to trap a scream.

“Don’t, Kate,” he panted. “Don’t.”

But blood was spreading over the left side of Morales’s body. And the pain in my midsection was creeping like poison vines. And telling the truth wasn’t just a compulsion but a requirement, like breathing.

“I lied!” I shouted.

Dionysus went still. A devilish smile emerged from the beard. “About what?” he asked in a seductive tone.

I swallowed to wet my dry throat. “About the Bane case.”

Morales stilled, and his eyes rose to look at me with an expression filled with fear. For some reason I knew this fear wasn’t for him or us, but for me and what this admission would mean.

“I cooked magic for John Volos.” I barreled ahead now because with each word the agony in my middle lessened. “I read the Gray Wolf potion, I used what I discovered to complete the antipotion, and then I promised Volos I would keep the identity of Bane’s accomplice a secret so John could go after the guilty party himself.”

Dionysus made a smacking noise with his lips, like he was savoring the admission. “My, my, that
is
juicy.” He turned toward me. With his free hand, he jerked my face up by the chin. His fingers dug into the skin and his gaze bore into me. “But you only told part of the truth.” He leaned in. “Who was behind the potion, Kate?”

Behind the madman, Morales was shaking his head, willing me to resist. But I was so tired. Tired of the pain, yes, and the fear. But more than that, I was fucking exhausted from carrying the weight of this secret around on my shoulders. Tired from pretending I was the kind of cop who could collude with criminals because the ends would justify the means. Tired of not getting credit for saving my brother’s life. Tired of being in debt to John Volos and at the same time wishing he’d make good on his threats against Uncle Abe. Of knowing I needed him to exact the vengeance I couldn’t legally pull off.

“Who was it, Kate?” Dionysus yelled.

I opened my lips to complete my confession. But before I
could form the words, Morales shouted his own confession. “When I was undercover, the coven I’d infiltrated killed a dirty cop. I helped them hide the evidence.”

All sound evaporated. Air became an endangered resource. A chill passed through me like a ghost.

Morales’s eyes were hot and focused on me. Waiting to see my reaction. But the muscles in my face weren’t cooperating and all I could do was stare, slack-jawed.

There are moments set apart from reality. Like stepping off a treadmill and tripping into stillness. This was one of those times. I felt removed from my body, staring down at smug Dionysus, nervous Shayla, defiant Morales, and a pale, shell-shocked woman.

Dionysus spoke from far away. “Now we’re really having fun!”

Time suddenly caught up with me and my conscience fell back into my body with the impact of a meteor.

“It’s quite a shock, isn’t it?” Dionysus said. “To find out that people you admire are nothing more than carefully constructed shells.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off Morales. “Is it true?”

“Of course it is,” Dionysus said impatiently. Both he and Shayla were watching me, because that’s where the drama was. “If he were lying he’d be dead.”

Morales nodded slowly. I noticed his hands were busy plucking at his bindings. Then his eyebrows rose and his gaze darted toward our captor. Toward the gun in Dionysus’s hand.

I knew instantly what he was planning. “Goddamn it, Morales! How could you cover up something like that?” I leaned over, as if trying to find comfort. The move allowed me access to the corkscrew and its dull knife.

“Don’t you fucking judge me,” he shouted. The outburst
captured the rapt attention of both Dionysus and Shayla. I furiously sawed at my bindings. “I did what had to be done, Prospero.” His voice had a convincing defensiveness to it. So convincing I worried I’d misread his intention. “But who are you to judge? I’m not the only one here who’s rationalized shitty decisions.”

“I cooked to save Danny’s life. You covered up a murder to save your job!”

“And you haven’t kept your secret to save your job?” he challenged.

Dionysus crossed his arms and watched me closely, like he was anticipating a complete meltdown.

Part of me wasn’t sure if we were acting anymore. The anger his comeback caused certainly didn’t feel fake. I palmed the corkscrew and sat up, careful to hold my wrists together. Looking into my partner’s eyes, I played out the charade. “Fuck you, Morales,” I said in a low, mean voice.

“No, fuck”—in a burst of motion, Morales launched himself up from the bench—“you!” He slammed into Dionysus like a wrecking ball. The weight of both men slammed into the boat’s bow.

Shayla screamed and started dancing around, as if she were confronted with a mouse instead of two grown men pummeling each other as they grappled for a gun. Launching myself out of my seat, I tackled her. We slid across the slick floor until her head slammed into the gunwale.

But instead of subduing her, the impact turned her into a rabid polecat. For a few adrenaline-soaked moments the world was a sea of scratching nails, vicious hair pulling, and the palpable heat of rage. Somewhere in the tussle I lost my grip on the corkscrew. By the time I realized this, Shayla had managed to get a grip on her gun and raise it.

I froze instantly.

She let out a calming breath and smiled. “Stand up.”

With my hands raised, I stood as slowly as possible. She moved to put a little distance between us. Behind me, the men had gone silent, but I didn’t have time to worry about who’d won when my own skirmish was far from over.

“Do not fucking move”—Shayla’s voice rose with panic—“or I’ll shoot you.”

“No, you won’t,” I said. “You may be a whore, but you’re no killer.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’ve known a lot of killers, Shayla.” I jerked my chin toward her partner. “That asshole is one. Uncle Abe, too. And Aphrodite for damned sure. But you?” I shot her a pitying frown. “You don’t have the hardness in your eyes or the steel in your gut.”

I braced myself. My hands clasping into fists. Trying to focus through the pain and the disorienting surge of magic’s energy through my cells.

“Actually, I lied,” I went on, bending my knees slightly. “According to my mom, you weren’t so hot at whoring, either. It’s sad, really.”

Time slowed to a crawl. The warped echo of a screech. That red fingernail pulling on the trigger. A flash of fire from the muzzle. My leg muscles screaming. Commotion behind me. Each frame of motion flashing like a slideshow. Shayla’s body flying backward. The gun flying loose. Hands, feet scrambling. Fingers yearning for and finding hot metal.